Before One Punch (old)
by marakami
Summary: A young Saitama grew up the MHA universe, and along with him comes a tiny fraction of his power. With him planning to shoot for UA High, how will the characters we know and love turn out?
1. Prelude

The boy in the blue track suit flinched as a fist of stone rammed into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and his consciousness for a split second as sweat droplets from his jet black spikey hair rained forth.

 _Again._

His muscles screamed and tore for him to stop, the threat of the darkness in his eyes dragging his eyelids shut, fatigue in his mind echoing throughout his body as he drifted between the state of the awake and asleep.

Jumbled thoughts caressed his mind as he felt, again, his body crash onto the floor, the crackling pain now registering in his chest and back.

 _Get up._

In an alley, within the dying light, a figure in a hoodie, his face in the darkness, his pants resounding in the dark of the cold brick walls equal in hardness and temperature as his fists, whilst another slam was heard as the boy in the blue and dirty track suit fell onto the floor. His Quirk: Hardened Hands.

"Just what is this little shit?!"

He opened and closed his smooth, stone hands which now threatened to crack and crumble, evident of their trembling and fractures along their surfaces.

What a mugging gone wrong was the situation at hand. Half an hour ago, he was threatening to slit a man's throat with his dagger, before that boy in the track suit showed up, already looking shabby and dead beat.

Now, they were still in the same alley, squaring it up. It was his fourth knockout. And it was going to be his fifth recovery.

 _If I can't defeat him, I can't go on._

His fingers twitched upon the concrete. And with indomitable willpower, he forced his arms to carry the weight of his upper body, pushing him off the ground and shifting the weight onto his trembling legs.

The boy unnervingly propped himself up, painfully, the same blaze gleaming within his eyes, blood dripping down his head, with one eye bruised.

"Just stop it already kid!"

There was no escape for the villain except through him, as his back was against a wall.

 _If I don't do this, I will never amount to a hero._

With a gutteral grunt, the boy rushed up to him once again.

 _If I don't do this, I will never get stronger._

The man reinforced his hands once again, unleashing a right swing aimed to arch and smash his head in. The boy suddenly tilted his head to the left, and, taking a smash onto the ground with his left foot, twisted his right arm and shoulder forward, and unleashed a wound up uppercut from his right fist with astonishing speed.

Pulling his left hand backwards to guard against the blow was futile as it shattered under the force of the punch as it pulled through, his jaw cracking in its wake, with the side effect of the man flying backwards and into the wall behind him.

Panting, the boy slumped against the brick wall beside him. Coughing out blood, he noted to himself that it was his third time today.

Taking in breaths, he felt the tendrils of sleep grasp at him once more.

 _I still have 3 more kilometers to run._


	2. One

_"Ha! You're Quirkless! You can't even do anything!"_

 _His vision darkened as he slumped against the wall, the previously glaring sun growing dull, with the silhoutte of several taller figures staring him down, laughing gleefully at his demise._

 _As he struggled to get up, one of the bigger figures, face in the shadow of the light of the sun behind, reached down and grabbed his collar, its friction against the back if his neck._

 _"You try to protect someone when you can't even protect yourself!"_

 _"...disgusting."_

 _"What did you say?"_

 _"You're all disgusting."_

 _A quirkless person, talking down on him as if he was better. A cripple insulting him. He could take no more to his pride._

 _The figure lifted a closed fist, and prepared to strike down this meaningless trash._

 _The fist came fast._

Saitama breathed in hard as he jolted awake, his eyes taking in the comforting gloom of dawn, the alarm clock at his side buzzing.

 _What was that about?_

He thought and tried to remember what he was dreaming of, but it was futile as the only thing he remembered was that he had a lack of bananas and was down to his last.

 _Whatever then. Guess I'll buy some later._

As he got up, he felt his overworked body strain upon him, but this was normal to him in a sense that he felt like this everyday.

Slipping off his blue striped pyjamas, he shuffled into the bathroom, clicking on the lights and then wincing at the brightness, and took an involuntary look at himself in the mirror. His 1 year of hard work and resolve.

What he saw was well-defined muscles and nearly chiseled features, with no bulging nor oversized 'gains'. He remembered when he first started, he barely looked anything resembling this, and that brought a smirk to his face. The signs of his achievements.

Washing himself up, he thought of the possible instituitions he could try for, and settled on UA, the supposed best hero academy in his region, after remembering the pamphet his teacher had given out yesterday, and its 'tryouts day' or something along those lines. He could not remember. He was not very good at remembering things.

Now putting on his blue track suit, he reached for the refridgerator door, pouring a cup of milk and grabbing a banana along the way.

And so, having consumed his breakfast, he headed out his apartment and started on his training regime, roughly planned out to end before the start of school.

llllllllllllllll

The jarring bell signaled the end of his school hours.

With the bustle of the school around him, he wondered why no one paid much attention to him. He was not going to complain about it though; he had heard some other students had had it rough being quirkless. It was always rough for him for a couple of days when a group noticed him and beat him down, but never for long.

Scratching his head through the ruffle of his hair, he wondered if he had to do something later.

 _Oh right! There was a supermart sale today!_

Saitama quickly rummaged through his bag, textbooks and notes strewn onto the table beside him, before pulling out a crumpled sheet of discount coupons, which yielded a grin from him, thinking about all the savings he could make on the half price crab meat, the 20% off cabbage etc, before stuffing it into his pocket.

lllllllllll

Elsewhere, a certain green-haired individual sulked into a tunnel, dragging his feet along the rough surface, with a downcast face.

 _That was when I decided I would not care about what anyone else says!_

Izuku puffed out his chest, feigning a courageous facade as light faded behind him. Stomping on the ground in an exaggerated way resembling a symbolic hero, he let out an overemphasized laugh that punctuated the darkness of the tunnel, which echoed back and forth chillingly.

 _To stick up chin up and keep moving forward!_

Darkness swallowed Izuku as he ventured further into its maw. Just behind him, the sewer cover floated up, and along with it came massive teeth, eyes and foul amounts of dirty green sludge, oozing and flowing as it gained height.

 ** _A medium sized body for me to escape in!_**

Bubbling was heard as the vile glump grew and rose in size upon sighting its new target, completely oblivious to it as it slithered and contorted towards Izuku. He heard the bubbling and splattering too late.

Spinning around, bulbous and dripping tendrils lashed out at him, closing around him and pulling him into the even larger mass, enveloping him in its slimy and rancid embrace, sliding over his mouth and nose.

Izuku thrashed and flailed within his prison of goo, to his chagrin, nothing seemed to affect it. Obviously, because the villain was a liquid.

 **"You're my hero for letting me escape in your body!"**

Shards of sunlight seemed out of reach as Izuku began to choke, the slime depriving him of air. He felt his consciousness slipping as the darkness of the tunnel flickered into dimness.

 **"Stay still kid! It'll only hurt for 45 seconds and then it'll be over!"**

 _Why me...?_

"Consecutive Punches!"

A fairly strong wind current shredded and ripped at the sludge, freeing Izuku from its grasp. Weakly, Izuku saw through the slits in his almost closed and tearing eyes a figure gripping his arm and pulling him out from his demise.

 _All... Might?_ The figure's sillhoutte against the light at the end of tunnel never resembled any large or muscular man. Instead, it was of average build and height, and sported spikey hair.

Izuku choked air into his lungs as the disgusting slimey substance cleared from his windpipe, his vision blurring back to normal.

He found himself on the ground, and propping himself upwards, he saw the guy in black long sleeved uniform standing before him, defending him with a martial stance.

 _Who is this guy?_

 **"Gah! You'll pay for that!"**

The goo gurgled and swirled its constituents back together, amassing in size and mass, as its teeth righted themselves and eyeballs moving back to their respective positions.

 **"DIE!"**

A green tendril lashed out like a whip to the boy's right, arching dangerously towards his head, when at the last moment, the boy angled his upper body down to the right to dodge the blow. He then followed up with a spectacularly fast leap after turning around halfways and clockwise, with its momentum curling up in the form of a wound up punch.

The fist collided with the goo, first transferring shockwaves into the liquid thing, then sending wind drafts throughout the tunnel, shredding and slicing and sending the goo backwards.

 **"Argh! What are you even?!"**

Now, a larger slimey fist swirled into view, bubbling with danger, threatening to strike down at his smaller target.

The stillness of the air changed to one of righteous fury in an instant as all three individuals felt raw power build up behind them. And before anyone could react.

"TEXAS SMASH!"


	3. Two

_"Why do you want to be a hero, Saitama?"_

 _A kind and gentle feminine voice emanated from a woman facing outwards of a window, her back turned towards us, her long flowing fair cascading down. The room around them was one of a teen, books and action models of Pro Heroes strewn mischieviously all over the floor._

 _"I want to save those who are helpless with a smile! I want to beat all villians with one punch!"_

 _The figure continued looking out at the cherry blossoms drifting with the wind, before the atmosphere changed to burning soot and heat. The apartment room incinerated down to dust, the books and toys disintegrating._

 _The woman was trapped in green hued flames and cinders as she cried out for help, flailing against her burning prison, her face consistently in the shadows. Our vision blurred, as the inferno and desolation turned to colourful squiggles of red and orange, whilst hot wetness ran down our cheeks, unending screaming in our ears._

 _Helpless. Powerless._

 _That was when Saitama decided to be a hero. A hero, regardless of Quirk._

Saitama jogged, more like zoomed, towards the supermarket with coupons in pocket, feeling the rush of air in his ears and pulling back on his hair, his speed rivaling even a speeding bicycle.

 _I better not be late that all the half price foods are gone!_

Saitama, as you can see, is on a very limited budget. And is living alone. Which technically makes him a hobo. Which he does not want to acknowledge.

He spotted a tunnel he could go through as a shortcut and felt a murderous presence within. He was going to fight the entity inside anyways.

Light faded to darkness as he stepped into it, the gurgling sounds making targeting the villian much easier, his footsteps echoing throughout the tunnel and back to his ears. Echolocation was not only available to bats and dolphins.

 _There's someone in there?_

Squirming before him was a huge gnarled mass of oozing goo, consuming its next victim as it enclosed around him, eyeballs shining with glee as it coaxed the victim into submission. Not that it mattered anyway.

 **"Stay still kid! It'll only hurt for the first 45** **seconds!"**

That was when Saitama felt so strongly for the victim within. Helpless, unable to act. Longing for someone to rescue them. Needing the help of a saviour. And so, he reached out to Izuku.

 _Because I am not powerless anymore._

Pulling back his fists, clenching his hands, he let loose a barrage of straight consecutive punches in incredible speed, creating wind currents that tore through the tunnel similar to a finger flick of All Might.

lllllllllll

"TEXAS SMASH!"

A looming presence of justice presented itself behind Saitama, a huge fist that contained unfathomable power blurring past him and downwards, unleashing radial blasts of wind eviscerating and disintegrating the beastly slime, desecrating the ground it was on with fractures. Not like anyone could see it though, especially in a dark tunnel.

Saitama raised his arms and steadied his feet to counter the fierce gale, which, compared to his own, was more than several times its power. Much more powerful than Saitama could do yet.

 _All Might!_

Saitama's face lit up in prospect of gaining a signature from, uh, maybe one of the top heroes in the country. He could not remember. He turned around to find the large man, clad in a stretched out white shirt that showcased his bulging strength, and overwhelming power, and, of course, his signature yellow 'V' crowning his head.

"All Might!"

Izuku rushed towards the top S class hero, seemingly already forgotten about Saitama, most eager to meet his idol right in person.

"I must apologise for you kids getting involved in my capture target! I hope you are all okay!"

His voice was commanding yet reassuring, fitting for the symbol of peace, his smile consistently on his face, beginning his walk out of the tunnel with both Izuku and Saitama tagging along.

"Thanks to you kids, I have captured the villian in this bottle!"

All Might flashed a grin, taking out a plastic bottle with what seems to be a sample of the goo and its eyes. How he sucked the villian into the bottle with winds blowing around from his punch was one of the top ten questions science still cannot answer.

"Can I get your signature?"

Both teens exclaimed at once, only to open their notebooks to find the signature already there, surprised, with the large man giving a thumbs up.

"Not to worry, its time for me to go!"

All Might bent his knees, readying a leap into the sky. Saitama felt the immense pressure of power and strength building up within the hero, a droplet of sweat rolling down his forehead as he watched from a distance. Faintly, he detected signs of multiple other presences within him.

 _Was it his Quirk that made him this powerful? Or..._

"Be sure to keep cheering me on!"

Power released, winds blowing out and shockwaves breaking forth as the hero leapt forth into the sky, the ground before him crumbling around him in a crater.

 _Okay, why did the green-haired kid even follow him?_

Saitama stood, thinking about what had just happened, seeing Izuku dashing and grabbing onto the leg of All Might as he launched forth, all in an instant.

 _He does realise that he can't get down, does he?_

He turned towards the direction he was going in, trying to remember what he was going to do with all his strength.

 _Oh crap! A supermart sale!_

A croud of dust erupted where he stood, as a figure rocketed down the road.


	4. Three

Saitama ran in the fading darkness, the skies tinged with the orange and warm yellow hues of emerging dawn, his footsteps a trail in the sand beneath his toes.

He remembers that, a year ago, he could barely handle his own inhumane training regime which had threatened to tear him apart, alongside its frequent nosebleeds and the occasional bloody cough. Now, he felt that it was gruelling all the same, but he was stronger, faster. As he gazed into the shimmering daylight on the surface of a abyssal ocean, reminded of the days before. He was panting, but not as hard.

In a distance ahead, another figure was also running on the beach, their footprints almost non-existent as the waves lapped onto the shore, running through the prints and smoothening them into the sand.

Saitama ran to catch up with a certain green-haired kid, clearly struggling on with his heavy trudging footsteps, reminding him of how weak he was.

"Hey there."

Izuku, bleary-eyed, did not pay attention to Saitama, who was jogging almost on the spot albeit at a relatively high pace alongside him. His sweat poured, the sand crunching below him, as he lugged himself forwards towards nowhere specifically.

"Oi."

The boy collapsed onto the sand, heart pounding wildly in his ears, panting with wild abandon as he muttered incorrigible sentences.

"... stronger..."

A middle-aged scrawny man rushed forth to his aid, as Saitama saw in his peripheral vision. His cheeks concave, his eyes sunken, and his limbs boney, his hair a striking yellow blaze, subtly reminding him of some hero he'd seen recently. What was his name? All Right? Mull Night? Something along those lines. Not that it mattered; he was crazy powerful and Saitama admired him.

"You should take a rest, really."

Saitama bent down and helped him up, feeling the void of strength slumped across his arm, then proceeding to drag him on his dead feet towards a nearby bench by the beach.

"Ah..."

The stick figure stood still after eye contact with Saitama, his eyes reflecting the glint of recognition for an instant, but within that instant, Saitama knew all too clearly. He saw all too clearly.

That man might be malnourished and in poverty.

llllllllllll

 _That kid! He-_

Toshinori stared deep into the eyes of the boy in blue tracksuit. He remembered all too clearly. His strength. His power rivalling that of 15% to 20% of One for All. The lowest mark of strength to create wind blasts.

He saw his speed, his agility, his reflexes. Dodging at the last moment, able to cross distances in instances.

 _He had no quirk. At least, none detectable to me._

All that he saw within the kid with blue tracksuit upon his entrance into the battle via the manhole.

 _And yet, I sensed no fear in him. Against a villain of that calibur._

Toshinori looked away from the boy, eyes now focussing entirely on Izuku, who was barely conscious, propping him up as well on his boney shoulders, the sweat already soaking into his blatantly oversized and baggy shirt.

 _Just who is he and what Quirk does he have to have had so much confidence against a villian?_

His mind replayed the instant where Saitama stood his ground against the villian. A massive gooey fist lashed out to his left whilst a whip-like tendril shot out on the right. The boy, assessing the situation, dodged the fist, and with his body facing downwards from the ducking, should he not be able to counteract to the whip tendril? And when he bent down at an impossible angle, he then jumped forth, sending a slight shockwave through the ground.

And the punch, sending rending winds through the tunnel.

 _Maybe he should inherit One for All instead._

lllllllll

Saitama stared blankly at Izuku, panting breathlessly on the bench, drenched his in own sweat. He then decided to stay to have a little chat, because he found curiousity in Izuku.

He had watched the news later during that fateful day, and it impacted him more than it should have.

 _A crowd of on-lookers encircled the devastation of what was once a road, littered with rubble and debris. A familliar writhing mass of green slime at its centre, while various heroes darted to and fro around the plumes of fire, unable to get close to the explosions it sent out._

 _Then suddenly, the green haired kid broke through the crowd, running towards the goo, and threw his bag into its eyes, and then clawed at the amorphous blob._

He remembered it too vividly. The exhilaration he felt when Izuku ran forth to help, when no other hero would.

lllllllll

Crowds of the masses grouped in front of the scene, several flashes of bright colours moving back and forth the enclosed area. It was the heroes' valiant attempt at combating a villian, to no avail.

In its centre was the familliar disgustingly green blob, and its stationary rampaging in the broken asphalt and concrete and debris, flames dancing around the battlefield as blasts of yellow flame sent heroes scurrying for cover and lighting up the arena. Explosions continued to shatter the surrounding debris and cityscape as the villain thrashed on.

Izuku slipped through the onlookers slowly to the front, and what he saw caused his hands to be clasped around his mouth as his eyes teared in sympathy for the blond victim. His knees started to shake as his arms trembled, his heart racing in adrenaline.

The sludge thrashed and lashed around, its thick tendrils striking out into the air and shattering the ground, forcing the platoon of heroes to fall back to avoid getting blasted of smashed.

"I can't get close to them!"

 _I'm sorry, someone will save you for sure!_

"The villian has a hostage, we can't engage!"

Within that moment, the lights grew too bright, the crowd's din faded to a mere soft buzzing, and his heart's thumping softened to a halt as he saw a familliar face within the ivory teeth of his prison. The blond kid was no other than Katsuki Bakugou, his tears of fear falling down in streaks, his eyes pleading for salvation. Everything tuned out, but Katsuki's face, as the world spiralled into a dramatic slow motion.

And that was when Izuku decided to be a hero.

 **A/N** **Hi guys thanks for reading my fanfic and your time in doing so! it has been a tough week for me and so sorry i could not find time to update this fic. and yea, i do read the comments and ill try my best to reply them, even though i cant remember your users! questions will be answered here:**

 **regarding writing additional fics:** **im sorry to say i wont be able to doing so because if i do, i wont be able to keep up with my studies!**

 **regarding the portal to another world thing: no it will not be, saitama will be growing up within the bnha universe**


	5. Four

Saitama looked back and forth the rows and columns of slices and slashes of colours within its rectangular, frigid abyss which held what Saitama sought most. Tauntingly, the flashes and streaks of colour glimmered, hiding within the cold vapours below.

Viciously, Saitama took a stance, and shot out an open palm, spelling doom to his victims. Gusts of winds were displaced outwards, sending the atmosphere around him to a few degrees colder.

It was bargain day at the supermarket, and Saitama was unable to resist getting his hands on half price premium sukiyaki beef and pork bones from the freezer-thing they use to keep those meats.

And with a victorious smile, with 2 new additions to his already half-full basket of severly discounted food items, he continued his rampage within the supermart, a set of coupons within his other hand.

He continued his walk to and along the fruit section, and was pleasantly surprised to find bananas for 30% off their price! And they were a large bunch too! Feasting his eyes upon the final yellow bunch, Saitama reached out to grab them, only to find another hand reaching out to them on his right. And with righteous fury that he had probably wanted to take them first, a dark look came upon his suddenly sharpened and chiselled features of his face, his eyes glinting with murderous intent. No one was going to steal his bananas that he rightfully claimed first.

Shadowy flames emeanated from behind him as he stared down his victim with venom, clearly intimidated by Saitama's visage.

A frightened Izuku let out a small 'eep' as he stared death in the eyes, his hand instinctively retracting back to the sides of his body, a basket also in his hands, with various items stacked inside it.

 _Oh its just the green-haired kid._

"Oh hey, didn't expect to see you here."

Saitama's face softened, his features still sharp but not to the extent as before. He took this chance to snag the bananas.

Izuku's face looked suspiciously at the taller kid with spikey jet black hair.

 _Crap! D_ _id he notice?_

"Oh it's you. You saved me from the villian in the tunnel, but I never got the chance to thank you, or ask for your name. My name is Midoriya Izuku."

 _He didn't!_

Saitama chuckled internally evilly, watching the shorter Izuku scratch his head with his free hand, his sheepish smile taking hold of his face.

"Oh, its Saitama. Anyways, wanna grab a coffee or something after I get my things home?"

lllll

Izuku sipped at his steaming coffee cup, his hands clasped around the porcelain holder of the brown liquid. Saitama sat across him on a wooden chair, cross-legged and staring deeply at his browned reflection in a cup.

"So what's your quirk, Saitama? Is it super strength and speed? Or something like All Might's quirk? I mean, you were able to launch winds and move super fast and punch and-"

Izuku, mid-ramble, looked up onto Saitama, who had a blank look on his face, seemingly disinterested or spacing out or something of the sort.

"Saitama?"

He snapped back into reality, turning back towards Izuku with a start. Moreover, he looked confused, evident from his blank expression on his face and hollow look in his eyes.

"Huh? Please summarise it in twenty words or less please."

Izuku stared at Saitama in slight disbelief, scratching his head, then proceeded to repeat his first question.

"What's your Quirk, Saitama?"

"My Quirk, huh. I don't have one. At least, I don't think I do."

"WHAT?!"

Izuku slammed his hands onto the table and jolted into a standing position, the coffee house hearing a sharp clatter of porcelain, his face in utter shock which just spelt increduility.

That this kid, who could create wind currents with his punches, had no quirk. In fact, it was under his own strength that he could launch punches capable of launching winds. Izuku found this unacceptable.

Could it be that Saitama was hiding the fact that he had a quirk? After all, his power was so similar to All Might's that both were able to literally punch winds, and with speeds and reflexes identical, but discounted of that of All Might. Could it be that All Might had instead already given 'One for All' to Saitama? Could it-

"Oi. We're in a coffee house, you know."

With a dark look of realisation, Izuku fell back into his seat with dejection, stopping his rambling, stares of other customers in the vicinity beginning to fade away.

He was going to do it. He was going to confirm it, no matter what he thought was true or false. Doubt and anxiety pooled within his gut as he forced the question from his mouth.

"Did... Did All Might give you 'One for All' ?"

Izuku, furrowing his brows, staring deep into Saitama's dead eyes, steeled himself to the answer.

"What's 'One for All' ?"

"Eh?"

What? He did not? Then how did Saitama get his quirk or power so similar to that of All Might's?

"I told you: I'm quirkless."

Izuku's flew into a panic, as he realised what he had done. Anyways, how could All Might give 'One for All' to Izuku Saitama when they have only just met. And that All Might had agreed to train Izuku, and he was sure that All Might would not bite back on his promises. But still, he doubted All Might. He doubted his Number One Hero. He doubted his saviour.

"Please forget about what I said!"

Saitama scratched his head and looked back into himself in the coffee cup.

"I probably will by tomorrow morning. I'm not very good at remembering things."

Looking down in shame and relief, Izuku let out a deep sigh. He had unwittingly exposed All Might's secret.

"I'm quirkless as well, Saitama."

Izuku was still unconvinced, but accepted it anyways, with a gulp of coffee down his throat.

Saitama smiled, and sipped at his bitter goodness. Another one as he was. Quirkless and proud. Bottom of the caste system of this horrid society, where the powerful overrun the weak, even in times of this facade of peace created by its Symbol.

"I see. Then you do clearly understand what you were doing when you ran forward to save the kid in the slime."

Izuku's eyes flashed with memories and recollection of that fateful day, experiencing through it in quick time, through the running, the rush of winds in his ears, the emotions threatening to tear him apart. He was then brought back into reality by the clinking of the porcelain.

"Yes..."

"I see. That was very heroic of you. Most heroes these days won't risk getting themselves hurt for the sake of others, and are only out to get credit and fame. They are only there for honour from the public, to mask their own insecurities."

Saitama took a distant look in his eyes, of which hid more wisdom and depth that perceivable on his emotionless, flat face.

"That so..."

Izuku could not agree more with what he said, about some heroes being flashy and all that.

"That's why I wanna get strong enough to become a Hero capable of defeating villians with One Punch. Because, if all the heroes are unable to, then who is going to take a stand against them?"

Saitama gave Izuku a smile.

"If the next generation of heroes can't stand against villains, then who will?"

 **A/N: Changed the last speech text thanks to tips by a certain users. Thanks a lot!**


	6. Five

Saitama sat on a plastic seat that was attached to the floor in the air conditioned waiting room of the clinic, where he waited for his turn for the 'Quirk Manifestation Test', a vein throbbing on his temple on how much money he was spending just to prove he does not have a Quirk. Because apparently, UA High required an official document regarding this for application. What a nuisance.

And the entrance exam was in an hour, at 2 pm that very same day. He had been waiting here for two.

Saitama sighed in despair of his depressing amounts of savings. He could barely even afford rent at this rate. Let alone pay to wait 2 hours just to get some crappy paper which said that he did not have a quirk. Did not he already know that?

The bell signalling the next queue number rang out, breaking Saitama's rambling about cost and expenses and half-price discounts, forcing him to turn towards the screen in hopes of his number finally being called out.

2871 flashed on the screen.

Saitama looked down at his receipt-thingy. It showed the numbers 2 8 7...

And then a '0'.

He fumed.

Saitama dropped in his application form stapled to a photocopy of his Quirk Certificate into the reception of the massive labyrinth of a school compound, of which he got lost exactly 3 times trying to find the counter. Maybe it was just him.

He started his walk towards the hall which was on the opposite building of the reception, just minutes away from the briefing that was going to happen soon. Who even designed the campus?

"Hey it's Saitama."

Turning his head around to see a green-haired kid, panting, sweat dripping down his forehead, a small grin surfaced upon his otherwise almost featureless face. So this Midoriya kid was going for UA as well.

"Yo."

He always thought that the Midoriya kid tried his best at literally everything and which goes really well along with that "I can do it" attitude, and this was why he liked him. No homo.

"G-good luck for the entrance exam!"

"Yeah, you too man."

"Get out of my way, runts."

A fuming, disdainful face under a crop of spikey blonde hair emerged, shoving past Izuku and Saitama alike. Oh, it was the sludge villian kid. The one that got stuck. He always wondered what was going through within that numb skull of his, to even try to fight against the sludge with an explosive fire Quirk. Doesn't water beat fire? Whatever, not like he cared about him anyways.

"G-good luck for the e-entrance exam, Kacchan!"

A stuttering Izuku, amongst other whispering and gossipping candidates, shouted out towards the devil-like boy, of which an even more demonic face was given in return, with another obligatory insult that followed suit. Saitama swore he heard this Kacchan guy stomp even more intensily after he heard that. Oof.

As soon as he completed his insult, Izuku tripped over his laces, falling forwards into empty air.

Saitama sat within the lecture theatre hall whatever thing, within the darkness, bored out of his wits. The emcee or teacher talked too much in too much detail. Actually, he more of yelled about every single detail. Distracted, he took a look around the dimly lit rows of students.

 _Man, this thing is massive._

He was a pretty funny guy though, he gotta hand it to him. His hair, his outfits and even his microphone neck thing. And when he tried to get everyone to say 'hey', a resounding and deafening silence ensued. Except that it was broken by Saitama's chuckling. And that a couple of of eyes turned in judgement at him.

Well, he didn't give two shits about them anyways.

"Excuse me, I have a question."

A voice sounded out from the darkness, his silhoutte showing the glint and reflection of his glasses. As far as he was concerned, that guy was pretty far from where he was sitting.

"On the handout, there were 4 types of faux villians listed. However, you have only talked about three. Such an error would be the embarrassment-"

 _Blah blah blah blah._

"Moreover, what's with you, curly-haired kid?"

The authoritative voice now projected to the other side of the hall.

"Can't you sit still for a second? You're distracting! If you think that UA is some pleasure jaunt, then leave this place at once!"

Saitama hasn't even met thid guy yet and already knew that he wasn't going to like him very much. He did not mind the insults or condescending tone, but it was his tendency to over-elaborate literally everything that really ticked him off. What an annoyance.

Saitama sat further into his seat, half-listening to the details about the fourth villian and something about invincible 'thwomps'. Thinking about it, didn't he play Super Mario Bros. before? Ah yes, those rectangular guys who took 2 seconds to slam onto you should you walk underneath them. He never liked them, as they once kept killing him. Even through his lives in Bowser's Castle. Who even puts them there anyways?

His recounts of his gaming life was broken from a really loud 'Plus Ultra'.

Speaking of which, who even wears sunglasses in a dark hall?

Arriving upon City Z, Saitama, in his signature blue tracksuit, glanced up at the massive door before him, and then to the mass of potential candidates flexing their quirks and showing off their skills, calling the process 'warmup'. Dude, no one warms up by creating energy ball things and detonating them in the middle of the air.

Stretching his calf muscles, he felt the strain of his training upon him. But no matter. He handled much worse, especially in his early days of training.

"On your mark!"

Students from all around adopted various poses, signalling their confidence to get in.

"Get set!"

Saitama stood up from his position, pulling and stretching his neck muscles. It felt pretty good.

"Go!"

A stampede ensued, students of all shapes and sizes pushing and shoving through each other to get a headstart in the approaching metallic faux villians, as the doors creaked open.

 **A/N sorry for the late update guys. I was really busy with school and all, and I promise another update later this week!**


	7. notice

**hi guys sorry to let yall down but i am making a rewrite of this fic due to staleness in ideas and me wanting to try something new. thanks for all your support!**

 **i havent been able to update for the past few months due to dying from schoolwork, sorry yalls!**

 **but this time ill try to update every week fridays for my rewrite of this fic!**

 **thanks!**


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